running, not as fast as Kevin but with a bigger head start. The alien closed fast. Once again, seconds were the difference. The closing doorway separated it from its prey.
On the other side of the barrier Jude struggled to regain his wind. ‘Over in the east wing: door B7. Safe.’
An instant later an alien foreleg smashed through the small glass window set in the steel. Screaming, Jude scrabbled backward along the wall, away from the clutching, frantic claws.
Dillon stood alone in the corridor he’d chosen to patrol and muttered to himself, ‘It’s started.’
‘It’s in tunnel B,’ Morse was yelling as he ran down his own private passageway. ‘Must be heading over to channel A!’
At an intersection, William nearly ran over Gregor as the two men joined up. ‘I heard it,’ Gregor muttered. ‘Channel E, dammit.’
‘Did you say B?’
‘No, E.’
William frowned as he ran. ‘We’re supposed to stay—’
‘Move your fucking ass!’ In no mood to debate what their theoretical relative positions ought to have been, Gregor accelerated wordlessly. William trailed in his wake.
In a side corridor Jude linked up with Kevin, and they glanced knowingly at the other. ‘You too?’
‘Yeah.’ Kevin was fighting for air.
‘Okay. Over to E. Everybody.’
Kevin made a face, trying to remember. ‘Where the fuck’s E?’
His companion gestured impatiently. ‘This way. Get a fuckin’ move-on.’
David was still alone, and he didn’t relish the continuing solitude. According to plan, he should have linked up with someone else by now. He did, however, find what remained of Vincent. It slowed but did not halt him.
‘Kevin? Gregor? Morse? I found Vincent.’ There was no response. He kept moving, unwilling to stop for anyone or anything. ‘Let’s shut this fucker down.’ The section of tunnel directly ahead was darker than the one he’d just vacated, but at least it was empty.
In the main corridor Dillon glanced at Troy. ‘Help them.’
The other prisoner nodded and headed into the maze of corridors, hefting his map.
Prisoner Eric stood nearby, his gaze shifting constantly from Dillon to Ripley. He chewed his lower lip, then his fingernails.
She studied the monitor panel. It showed Gregor going one way, Morse the other. Her expression twisted.
‘Where the fuck is he going? Why don’t they stick to the plan?’
‘You’re immune,’ Dillon reminded her. ‘They’re not.’
‘Well, what the hell are they doin’?’
Dillon’s attention was focused on the dimly lit far end of the corridor. ‘Improvising.’
She rested her hand on the main piston control, saw Eric staring at her. He was sweating profusely.
David stumbled through the darkened corridor, holding his flare aloft and trying to penetrate the blackness ahead.
‘Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Here—’ He broke off. The alien was clearly visible at the far end, pounding ineffectually on the door through which Jude had recently vanished.
He cocked his arm as the alien turned. ‘Here, pussycat.
Playtime!’ He heaved the hissing flare. The alien was already coming toward him before the flare struck the floor.
Turning, he raced at high speed back the way he’d come.
The distance to the next barrier was relatively short and he felt confident he’d make it. Sure enough, he was through in plenty of time. His hand came down hard on the close button. The door slipped downward. . and stopped.
His eyes widened and he made a soft mewling noise as he stumbled backward, one faltering step at a time.
As he stared, the door continued to descend in halting jerks.
He quivered as the alien slammed full speed into the door.
Metal buckled but continued to descend in its uneven, herky-jerky fashion.
An alien paw punched through the gap and made a grab at David’s leg. Screaming, he leapt onto a ledge in the corridor wall. The hand continued to flail around, hunting for him, as the door jerked down, down. At the last instant the foreleg withdrew.
There was silence in the corridor.
It took him a long moment to find his voice and when he did, what emerged was little more than a terrified whimper.
‘Door 3, channel F. Shut. .I hope.’
Morse didn’t hear him as he continued to stumble blindly down his own corridor. ‘Kevin? Gregor? Where the fuck are you?
Where is everybody? K, L, M, all locked and secured.’ He glanced at a plate set into the wall. ‘I’m back in A.’
In a side passageway Gregor was likewise counting panels.
‘Channel V secure. Channel P holding.’
Behind him William struggled to keep pace. ‘Did you say P
or D?’ he shouted. ‘For fuck’s sake—’
Gregor turned without stopping. ‘Shut the fuck up! Move!’
Unsure of his position, Kevin discovered that he’d doubled back on himself. ‘Shit. I’m in R. That’s safe. That’s safe. Isn’t it?’
Jude overheard, raised his voice so his companion could hear. ‘You forgot, man. R leads back into F. I’m moving through F right now. Gonna shut it down.’
Disoriented, Troy halted at an intersection. He’d moved too fast, ignoring the map and trusting to memory. Now he found himself appraising the multiple tunnels uncertainly.
‘Channel F? Where the fuck — There ain’t no fuckin’
Channel F.’
He moved forward, hesitated, and chose the corridor to his immediate right, instead.
That corridor, however, was already occupied by another frustrated inhabitant.
Dillon and Ripley heard the distant screams. As usual, the screams didn’t last for very long.
‘Morse?’ Dillon called out. ‘Kevin, Gregor?’
Ripley strained to see past him. ‘What’s going on back there?’
The big man glanced tensely back at her. ‘All they have to do is run down the damn corridors.’ He hefted his axe and started forward. ‘Stay here.’
The side corridor from which they expected their visitor remained deserted. No alien. No people. Only distant, echoing voices, some distinctly panicky.
Behind him, Eric voiced his thoughts aloud. ‘Where in hell is it?’ Dillon just glanced at him.
Sucking up his courage, David moved back to the door and peered through the small window. The corridor beyond was empty. He raised his voice.
‘I’ve lost him. Don’t know where the fucking thing is. Not gonna open the door. I think it went up in the fucking air vent.’
He turned slowly to inspect the single air vent in the tunnel above him.
He was right.
Ripley waited until the last of the echoes faded to silence.
Eric had been moving forward, his eyes harbingers of imminent collapse. If someone didn’t do something he was going to break and take off running. There was nowhere to run to. She moved toward him, caught his gaze, trying to stare him down, to transfer some of her own confidence into him.
Dillon had disappeared down the side corridor. It didn’t take him long to find Troy’s remains. After a quick look around he retreated back the way he’d come.
